


at a loss for words

by kaneki_coffee



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Oisuga Weekend, day 1 and day 3, get ready for some internal monologue thats all im saying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 19:51:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6623956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaneki_coffee/pseuds/kaneki_coffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It dawned on Oikawa as he towel-dried the hair of a humming Sugawara that he had a slight problem. He had always considered himself somewhat of a natural problem solver, so the fact that this one in particular was throwing him for a loop was…unnerving. Unnatural, even. And it was sitting right in front of him.</p><p>Oikawa had a problem and that problem was named Sugawara Koushi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	at a loss for words

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution for Oisuga Weekend!! I used the themes from Day 1 and 3, light and beauty. 
> 
> Also based off the prompt: You’ve got a date tonight and you asked for advice on what to wear but I’m so in love with you and damn you look good in the outfit I picked out for you.
> 
> There's also a small bonus scene at the end with a POV change.

“Kou-chan. You have literally _nothing_ to wear,” Oikawa wondered aloud, tone veering close to amazement. 

 Which, really, he was. Sugawara had clothes, of course. But his entire wardrobe consisted of mostly sweaters. How could one person own so many sweaters? 

The two shared most classes together and, yes, he wore a lot of… ‘casual’ outfits, but so did every other university student. With the amount of course work they were receiving this time of year, it was typically expected. And besides, it hadn’t mattered before because Sugawara had always made his wardrobe _work_. It was part of his natural image. He was warm and comfortable like the fuzzy sweaters he wore, patterned in soft colors that complemented his light hair and small smile, with the too-long sleeves rolled to his elbows yet always slipping down to hide the slender hands that fussed with the fraying cuffs.

Needless to say, Sugawara could pull off the sweater weather look. But Oikawa would never have guessed that was _all_ he had in his closet.

Or, to be exact, eight pairs of comfortable jeans, three jackets, one blazer, a handful of lame shirts, a few sets of athletic gear, and nothing less than a _stockpile_ of sweaters. Which, Oikawa admitted, wouldn’t be that bad if Sugawara never wanted to go out in _public_.

Honestly, how had Oikawa never noticed this wardrobe malfunction before?

“I…I can make this work,” he muttered to himself as he stood in front of Sugawara’s narrow closet, tapping his chin in thought. “There has to be something.” 

“There’s no hope,” Sugawara groaned from his seat on the bed, grabbing a pillow and shoving his face into it. He flopped backward, mattress creaking in protest of his weight. “Why’d you ever let me agree to this?” 

“Because you haven’t been on a proper date in the past five months and you need to get out more,” Oikawa replied firmly as he whipped aside a handful of empty hangers in the closet. He threw yet another sweater over his shoulder and into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. “And, so help me, you are going to look _nice_ on this first date.”  

Sugawara made a face behind his pillow and groaned. “It’s only been two months since the last date, Tooru,” he complained. “And I’m not even interested.”

Oikawa slammed the closet door shut with a huff and turned to face him, fists on his hips and a scowl on his face. “First of all, that one didn’t count! You told me yourself that you didn’t realize it had been a date until _after_ he tried to kiss you!”

Oikawa couldn’t help but grin at the memory. The poor guy had walked him home and leaned in for a kiss at the doorstep, not expecting Sugawara to flail in surprise and punch his jaw. Years of intense volleyball training had given him fast reflexes and an even faster right swing. Oikawa had received frantic text messages about a dead body in front of Sugawara’s apartment and that he needed to come _immediately_ and help carry the guy inside and out of sight before the landlord saw. He had spent the night icing the guy’s jaw and talking Sugawara out of the bathroom to properly apologize. 

The ‘date’ had apologized profusely in return, repeating over and over again just how wonderful Sugawara was, but it didn’t escape Oikawa’s attention that he never called for a second date.

“Shhh!” Sugawara protested, cheeks flushing from the memory. He threw his pillow at Oikawa weakly, the toss landing just short of his feet. “Tooru, that was so embarrassing. I thought we agreed never to mention that again.”

“You brought it up,” Oikawa said smugly, toeing the pile of clothes on the floor as if he was hoping a suitable outfit would magically appear. “And your clothes are a lost cause. Honestly, Kou-chan, how are we friends?”

“My endearing personality, good looks,” Sugawara suggested, raising his hand in the air as he ticked off reasons, “and ability to put up with you?”

“Ah, yes. Now I remember,” Oikawa replied, nose wrinkling. He snagged the thrown pillow off the ground and dropped it onto Sugawara’s stomach.

“Happy to help,” Sugawara said blandly, rolling to his side, his body curling around the offered cushion. “Now could you help me? I’m getting desperate. What if I just stayed home? I still have that essay to write.”

Oikawa leaned forward and grabbed Sugawara’s wrists, pulling him upright and ruffling his hair. “Kou-chan,” he clucked, “unless I’m mistaken, you finished that essay two nights ago.”

“I need to make revisions,” Sugawara replied without missing a beat, pulling his hands away carefully. 

“It’s not due for another week!” Oikawa protested. “We have time!”

“You say that, but you aren’t nearly done yet,” Sugawara grinned. “You’re procrastinating.”

“This isn’t about me,” Oikawa sniffed. 

“No, it’s about me. And if you don’t have your essay done, it’ll be _my_ phone going off at two in the morning the day before it’s due because _you’re_ frantically trying to bullshit the conclusion paragraph. Which affects my sleep schedule.” He smiled smugly.

“You’re trying to distract me from the subject on hand with petty insults. It won’t work.”

“Oh?” Sugawara arched an eyebrow and waited for a tense few seconds.

A few more trickled by before Oikawa broke the silence. “Oh, come on!” he retorted. “Everyone bullshits the conclusion paragraph, there’s no proper way to end an essay without sounding cheesy or repetitive.”

“I think someone’s just bitter over not getting full marks on the last one,” Sugawara remarked with a sly glint in his eye. “But that would be a little petty, wouldn’t you think?”

Oikawa gritted his teeth, biting back the fighting words that leapt to his tongue. “I’ll finish the essay tomorrow. But for _now_ , I’ll need to go to my place.”

“What? Why?” 

“Because we’re roughly the same shape. My clothes should work,” he said triumphantly, wagging a finger in the air. He was not to be distracted from the _real_ problem at hand.

Sugawara made a face that didn’t go unnoticed.

Oikawa gasped in indignation. “What’s that face supposed to mean? My clothes will work perfectly! I have great taste.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your clothes,” Sugawara explained patiently, pulling his legs onto the bed and wrapping his arms around his knees. “Well, except for the fact that you’re _much_ taller than me. I’m going to be swimming in your clothes if I try to put them on."  

“It’ll work out fine,” Oikawa insisted, crouching down and tugging out a pair of pants from the messy pile that he had created. “You can wear these, and those boots I bought you for your birthday last year.”

Another face. “They pinch my toes,” Sugawara complained. “I want to wear my old shoes.”

“Rejected.”

“I thought it was my date,” he groaned. “I should pick what I want to wear.”

Oikawa tossed the pants beside Sugawara and ducked down to search under the bed for the boots. “The poor guy was so sincere when he asked you out though! He was _blushing_! The least you can do is wear something nice.” He grinned in triumph as he found the boots and pulled them out into the open, neatly placing them side by side.

Sugawara kicked one over glumly. “But…your style isn’t _me_ , you know? I wouldn’t be comfortable, that’s all.”

Oikawa stood up and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. “Kou-chan, trust me! You’ll look great and you’ll feel great. How long have we been friends?” 

“Long enough to warrant some caution on my part.”

“You wanted my help, right?” Oikawa sighed irritably. “You stay here and shower. I’ll be right back with _real_ date clothes. And yes,” he waved away the doubt still lurking on Sugawara’s face, “I promise I won’t go overboard.”

“Pinky swear?” Sugawara hesitantly asked, raising his hand out to Oikawa.

“Pinky swear,” Oikawa returned with a smile, linking pinkies to seal the deal. “You’re going to look _perfect_.”

 

* * *

  

It dawned on Oikawa as he towel-dried the hair of a humming Sugawara that he had a slight problem. He had always considered himself somewhat of a natural problem solver, so the fact that this one in particular was throwing him for a loop was…unnerving. Unnatural, even. And it was sitting right in front of him. 

Oikawa had a problem and that problem was named Sugawara Koushi.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Sugawara asked for the twentieth time as he fidgeted in his seat, his bright eyes meeting Oikawa’s in the steamy mirror. He was sitting crosslegged on a folding chair that they had brought in from his desk. 

“More than okay,” Oikawa assured with a cheery smile. The lump in his throat might’ve been his heart. “You look perfect, as I promised.” He stepped back, removing the towel and neatly hanging it on the shower rod to dry. 

Sugawara stood up and stared at himself in the mirror, tugging at the loose shirt and chewing on his lip. “Don’t you think it’s a bit big?”

Oikawa flapped a hand in the air, waving away his concerns. “It looks amazing. And stop worrying, I’m not even done with you yet. We have to do something with your hair.” He flicked a wet strand off of Sugawara’s forehead, his fingers resting near his face for half a second longer than required. “Stay in here,” he ordered abruptly, “I need to grab the rest of the stuff.” He slipped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him and leaving Sugawara to continue fiddling with his new outfit.

_Idiot_. Oikawa berated himself silently as the door clicked shut. He rubbed his eyes rapidly with the back of his hand and took a deep breath, gathering himself. He was going to be a good friend and not let personal feelings get in the way. That was what he had decided a long time ago, back when they were both freshmen, nervous and relieved to see a familiar face. 

Oikawa didn’t quite remember when he had truly met Sugawara. They had played on different volleyball teams in high school, had even run into each other through mutual friends from time to time, but they hadn’t really started talking until just before college started and they realized they had chosen the same university. Volleyball practices had begun and both of them had made it onto the second string of the team. 

Ever polite, and perhaps just a _bit_ curious about the setter that had helped Kageyama advance so far, Oikawa had put on his best smile and raised a hand in greeting, turning up the charm–

–and was _immediately_ punched in the arm, hard enough to leave a bruise and knock the wind out of him. Sugawara grinned from ear to ear as he introduced himself, excited to work alongside such an _amazing_ setter. Oikawa suspected foul play and quickly put two other freshmen between them as they lined up, just for safety’s sake. Kageyama had probably asked for revenge and Oikawa did _not_ want to slowly get beaten to a pulp, no matter how angelic the puncher looked.

Then the line of freshmen started playing leapfrog to avoid the beautiful setter with a killer punch, and Oikawa realized that Sugawara wasn’t out to kill him, he just couldn’t quite seem to hold back his strength when he got excited.

Probably.

(Or, he was an assassin sent to take them all out so he could be the only freshmen left to play, but Oikawa kept that theory to himself. It was the kind of idea that usually earned him a swat to the head from Iwaizumi, alongside aliens and his firm belief that Star Trek was better than Star Wars. The memory of that argument still sent shudders running down his back and a dull ache behind his left ear.)

After a week of training and running drills, their coaches had begun letting the two set for the other members consistently. Practices became longer, more intense, and the two began to give each other tips on form that they had picked up. Short conversations about the sport led to longer discussions of just about anything. They began to run together in the mornings, sharing memories about old friends and new friends alike. When classes started up and they realized they were taking the same courses, Sugawara had merely laughed and dumped his bag into the seat beside Oikawa. 

_“I guess I’m stuck with you,_ ” he had laughed, eyes crinkling.  

Three years later and Oikawa was still hopelessly in love. He was a moth to the flame, always drawn towards the light that was Sugawara. But he was getting over it. If he kept telling himself that, it would come true. (Another lesson pounded into his head courtesy of his best friend, Iwaizumi. Oikawa conveniently forgot that that had been about Star Wars and he had still not changed his opinion since the age of nine.)

The key to this operation was to take baby steps. He had tried dating around, girls and guys alike, but it was difficult to maintain relationships when he leaned in for a kiss and could only imagine Sugawara’s face. That step had failed, many times, and usually ended with heavy feelings of guilt. At the moment he was enjoying the single life, still recovering from the last break-up which had been ugly. Tears were involved. Oikawa hated it when they cried, it made him feel worse. 

The _next_ step was to devote himself solely to working out, to channel his emotions into a good sweat that could be washed away in a scalding shower. _That_ failed because his teammates kept too close an eye on him and the moment he so much as faltered or misstepped, they were hovering over him like a hawk. Staying late to practice was a no-go either; Sugawara always waited for him, patiently freezing his ass off outside and making Oikawa feel guilty once again.

He had an entire list of steps for Operation: Get Over Suga, but none of them worked. So, finally, he decided to push himself out of the equation entirely. If he couldn’t get over Sugawara, Sugawara would get over him. 

Not that Sugawara was into him, he corrected himself glumly, restraining from pounding his head into the wall. _That_ would’ve solved all his problems. But it would be easy to set him up with someone. Oikawa was a talented matchmaker.

It had been so simple to find the guy. So simple to not-so-subtly drop a few hints, a suggestive look, a nod to the back of the room. At the end of class, Oikawa had watched as their classmate slid into the seat beside Sugawara, _his_ seat, and offer a dinner date, tripping over his words and blushing fiercely. 

It had made Oikawa want to claw his eyeballs out. 

But he hadn’t. He had taken a stride forward, a confident swagger in his walk, and gasped in surprise. Tossed an easy grin at the pair, a few teasing words. A few minutes later, their classmate had run off happily, and Sugawara sat, mouth open, dazed and wondering how he had just scored himself a date. Had he even said yes?

(The answer was no. Oikawa had done all the talking, as he had planned.)

It hadn’t taken much to push Sugawara off campus and to his apartment. He had kept up a steady stream of gossip and chatter, promising he would find him the perfect outfit, not to worry~! It had worked well as a distraction, as Oikawa knew it would. 

Sugawara’s wardrobe had almost thrown his plan offtrack, but Oikawa was a natural problem solver, and had been proud of his solution. 

Except, he hadn’t solved anything, not really. He had made everything worse. Now Sugawara was sitting in the bathroom smelling of fresh soap and fabric softener, and wearing Oikawa’s clothes. Humming with his eyes closed and a faint smile tugging on his lips. Trusting him, like he always did.

Oikawa shook his head to clear his thoughts. He refused to fail this step. He was so tired of being in love with his friend. It made his heart ache every time Sugawara leaned close to his ear to whisper a lame joke in the middle of class, his breath tickling and warm. It hurt to see him set a volleyball perfectly at practice, his hands arched in a graceful curve that could _almost_ distract Oikawa from the wide grin directed his way. Every punch on the arm was like a punch to the gut. And it only got worse with time.

This date was the best plan he had and it couldn’t fail now.

Scooping a mass of hair product bottles into his arms, Oikawa quickly turned and opened the bathroom door with his elbow, slipping in before it could swing shut. He managed a grin as he dumped everything onto the counter, grabbing for the hair dryer and holding it between them menacingly. “Are you ready for this?” he cackled, turning away to plug it into a socket and quickly flick it on.

The noise drowned out Sugawara’s answer, but Oikawa hadn’t really expected one anyway. He ran his fingers through damp hair, shaking out the tangles before following it over with the hair dryer. This, at least, he was good at. Years of managing his own wild hair had taught him well. He was confident that not even his own mother remembered what his bedhead looked like. 

He was both proud and disappointed in himself when he finally switched the hair dryer off and unplugged it. Proud because he had done a good job. Sugawara was even more alluring, if that was possible. Disappointed because he was really just a coward who ran away from his feelings.

“Kou-chan,” Oikawa sang, “you’re remarkably quiet for one that was just done a great service from one so amazing as I. And if I may say so, I did an outstanding job. I surprised myself!” He allowed himself to gently raise Sugawara’s chin with a finger, their eyes meeting in the mirror.

“I look like you,” Sugawara stated dryly, turning his head side to side, inspecting Oikawa’s work.

“Shh,” Oikawa ordered sternly and he poked him in the side. “You don’t look like anyone but yourself. To be honest, I didn’t even do much, you know. I can’t help but be jealous. Kou-chan doesn’t have to spend an hour every morning to look decent. The world is cruel.”

Sugawara managed a laugh. “The world is cruel,” he agreed.

_You don’t even know the half of it,_ Oikawa thought with a grimace.

 

* * *

 

“Tooru, are you sure–“

“Kou-chan,” Oikawa interrupted with a glare, “if you ask me one more time if I’m sure about _anything_ , you won’t be making it to any date.”

“Oh, how forward,” Sugawara mused from his seat on the bed, lacing his boots and double knotting them, just in case. 

“You’re lucky I’m so pushy. There’s no way you would’ve been ready in time without me.” 

“Mhmm, I suppose that’s true. But I wasn’t planning to go out tonight, either. How do you always rope me into these things?” He stood up and dusted the back of his jeans off.  

Oikawa made a face. “I don’t ‘rope’ you into anything, Kou-chan, I take care of you. It’s my job, you know, as your friend.”

“It’s your job? You poor soul, how much do they pay you to put up with me?”

“Not enough,” Oikawa sniffed haughtily, crossing his arms and staring down his nose at Sugawara. “I can barely pay my rent nowadays.”

“You’ll just have to move in with me,” Sugawara teased, maneuvering around Oikawa’s place by his desk to pocket his wallet and keys. “Your poor roommate is probably tired of you now.” A few quiet seconds trickled by and he swallowed, looking almost nervous. “Well. Wish me luck, I guess?” he asked, hand fluttering to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear.

Oikawa clicked his tongue in exasperation and stepped forward into Sugawara’s space, adjusting his hair with a careful flick. “Don’t try to ruin all my hard work before you even step outside, Kou-chan,” he said dryly, eyes meeting his steady gaze before his voice faltered. He opened his mouth but his throat had stopped working and he clamped it shut, taking a step back to put a respectful distance between them. 

“Good luck, Koushi,” he managed softly. “Try not to kill the poor guy this time. Iwaizumi is borrowing my shovel for gardening, I can’t go burying your dead bodies.”

Sugawara groaned and began walking towards the door. “I’m never living that down. Can’t you just let it go?”

“Never,” Oikawa shot back gleefully and sprang onto the bed, clapping his hands like a spoiled child. “That’s another part of my job.”

“To mock my pain and suffering? To force me to relive embarrassing moments that are best left forgotten?”

“What can I say? It’s in the contract.”

“I don’t remember signing this.” 

“You were drunk, I don’t expect you to.” 

Sugawara opened the door slowly and hovered at the threshold, looking as if he wanted to say something. 

“Go, Koushi,” Oikawa said firmly.

“Are you sure?” Sugawara asked wistfully. There was something behind the question, as if he was asking something else, but Oikawa didn’t hear it. Or maybe he didn’t want to, not anymore. His plan was finally working. He would get past this.

Operation: Get Over Suga was now in play. 

“Have fun~” Oikawa called, ignoring his screaming heart. _Don’t let him leave!_ it roared, jumping into his throat. Tears threatened to spill but he kept them at bay, refusing to give in. He was so close. Almost there.

Something flashed across Sugawara’s face but he quickly smiled and waved goodbye, the door closing with a quiet click. 

The apartment plunged into instant silence, pressing on Oikawa from all corners. He plopped backward onto the bed and grabbed the pillow Sugawara had thrown earlier, pressing it to his face and breathing in the smell. His plan had worked, but he hadn’t expected it to hurt so much.

 

* * *

 

Oikawa left Sugawara’s apartment quickly afterward, first checking to make sure everything was properly locked up and that the spare key was in its proper hiding place before he left. 

Satisfied and feeling sorry for himself, he trekked home slowly. It wasn’t more than a fifteen minute walk, but he took the scenic route to make it last over an hour. The sun had disappeared behind the city buildings and darkness had officially fallen when he finally entered his apartment. He snuck quietly down the hallway and collapsed on his bed. 

“Oikawa-san,” a quiet voice sounded from the kitchen area, “are you home?”

Ideas of pretending he wasn’t home flashed through his head, but he quickly let them go. He was an adult, damn it, the least he could do was act like one. “Aww, is Keiji-chan worried for me?” Oikawa called. “How sweet.” He rolled over to face the wall when he heard footsteps padding down the hall. Maybe being an adult wasn’t the best idea right now. He didn’t want to talk anything out.

Akaashi hovered at the doorway and observed Oikawa’s quiet figure. “Don’t be a prick,” he advised, crossing his arms. “You never walk into the apartment quietly unless something is wrong, and you’re never home this late unless you have practice. Which you don’t. So tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Oikawa’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he spent a few seconds to dig it out and shove under his pillow. “I’m a mature adult who can walk into their own apartment quietly, Keiji-chan.” 

Akaashi sighed and padded across the room to sit beside Oikawa on the bed. He crossed his legs and stared off into the distance as he talked quietly. “Last week you almost kicked the front door down because your arms were full of groceries.”

“…I didn’t know you were home to help.”

“You could’ve set them down on the ground to properly unlock the door. Or make two trips so your hands weren’t as full.”

“The coward’s way out?!?” Oikawa actually sat upright and faced him, truly affronted.

Akaashi stared him in the eyes. “Just tell me what’s wrong, Oikawa-san. I can’t help if I don’t know.”

“There’s nothing wrong,” he insisted. “I just made a decision. A responsible, _mature_ , adult decision.” His phone buzzed twice, muffled but still loud enough for both to hear.

“Does your decision have anything to do with your phone going off every thirty seconds?” Akaashi asked shrewdly, leaning over to reach the phone.

Oikawa shot forward like lightning, leaping to sit on the pillow so the phone couldn’t be touched. “No!” 

Akaashi paused and blinked at him. Oikawa looked like a protective chicken perched on their nest. “Are you lying to me?” he ventured tiredly, pulling his hand back. He glanced down at the bed.

“…No.” 

Akaashi sighed and ran a hand over his tired face. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to guess?" 

“I’m fine,” he insisted stubbornly. “Nothing’s wrong, stop asking.”

“So, it’s Sugawara-san. What did he do this time?”

“How did you–what?” Oikawa spluttered. “ _That_ came out of left field. Honestly, Keiji-chan, where did you even get that idea?”

“Oikawa-san, I know you like him. I’m not blind. Or deaf.”

“I’ve been careful! I didn’t tell anyone!”

Akaashi shrugged a shoulder. “I suppose. But we’ve also been living together under the same roof for a year and a half.” 

Oikawa’s face stayed blank, waiting for him to continue. 

“Sound carries,” he tried again helpfully. Oikawa flushed, looking scandalized.

“Keiji-chan, why are you just telling me this now?” He groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “That’s the final blow, I can’t take this anymore. Let me die in peace.”

Akaashi stood up and walked to the door. “You should read the texts before you do anything drastic,” he said over his shoulder. “They might change your mind.”

“Texts?” Oikawa peeked through his fingers and looked at the bed. His phone was only half hidden– leaping to sit on it had shifted the pillow back. Akaashi had been able to read every notification on the screen, all messages from Sugawara. He groaned and unlocked his phone, scrolling through the conversation.

 

**[9:27] tooru you’re never setting me up again**

**[9:29] I’m not even kidding**

**[9:32] TOORU THAT WAS WORSE THAN THE DATE I ALMOST KILLED A MAN**

**[9:32] IM BEING SERIOUS**

**[9:33] you are NOT allowed to laugh at me. or tell anyone else**

**[9:36] can i come over?**

 

Oikawa squeezed his eyes shut. He had tried so hard to make this work. It had been going so well. 

 

_[9:38] come on over you loser, i need to hear the details_

_[9:38] no promises on the laughing tho_

 

**[9:39] thats good haha I’m already here**

 

“What?” Oikawa shoved his phone in his pocket and scrambled off his bed. 

 Akaashi had a hand on the doorknob when Oikawa reached the hallway. “I’ll get it–“

“Sugawara-san, what a surprise,” Akaashi exclaimed in a very, _very_ unsurprised voice as the door swung open. “We were just talking about you.”

Oikawa basically fell backward and slid around the corner and out of sight. He didn’t know why that was his first instinct, but he was glad he could have a moment to gather himself.

“What?” Sugawara complained as he crouched to unlace his boots and slide on a pair of slippers by the door. “I told him not to tell anyone else. It’s so embarrassing.”

“Maybe you’ll have better luck with dating soon,” Akaashi pressed on. Oikawa frowned. _Was he…?_ “Oikawa-san hasn’t been able to hold a steady relationship for almost three years. Maybe you can help each other.”

It was only in that moment that Oikawa realized Akaashi could be as subtle as a brick if he wanted to be. 

“Kou-chan!” he yelled brightly as he whipped back around the corner and into view. “Don’t believe anything he says, I didn’t say anything!” He strode forward, grabbed Sugawara by the shoulders, and pushed him down the hallway as far away from Akaashi as possible. Oikawa had clearly received the message: if you don’t do something, I will.  

“Are you that desperate to hear how bad it was?” Sugawara complained as he allowed himself to be pushed into Oikawa’s room.

“I never pass up fresh material to tease you with,” Oikawa said firmly. He let go of his friend to turn and close the door. Akaashi was _not_ going to interfere. 

Sugawara sat down on the edge of the bed, his legs crossed and his hands resting in his lap. “How rude.”

“I never claimed otherwise,” Oikawa sniffed haughtily. He walked closer and crossed his arms. “So, what happened?”

“…you can’t laugh,” Sugawara muttered, blushing slightly. That was never a good sign, Oikawa thought, his heart sinking.

“Poor Kou-chan, did you knock this one out, too?” he teased.

“No,” Sugawara replied stiffly. “I poisoned him.” 

“…You _what_?”

Sugawara threw his head back and let out a long groan. “How was I supposed to know he was allergic to certain chili bean pastes? Who’s allergic to that? They’re what makes everything delicious!”

“Koushi, I don’t think he got to choose what he’s allergic to!” Oikawa exclaimed. “And why wasn’t he careful about that?”

“He went to the bathroom as I ordered the food. He said it was okay! Anything on the menu!”

“Well, that’s not really your fault, then,” Oikawa began in comfort.

“No, it is,” Sugawara continued, closing his eyes as if he was in pain. “The server came up and said they had a specialty item. It wasn’t listed on the menu.”

“Koushi. You didn’t.”

“I did.”

Oikawa winced. “What happened?”

“Well, he didn’t come back until after the food was served. And then he just kept talking! So I thought that meant I made a good decision!”

“What exactly did you order?”

“No laughing?”

“Yes, yes, sure. Just tell me!”

“Super spicy mapo tofu.”

Oikawa’s jaw dropped. “Koushi! Are you sure you weren’t trying to kill him? No one likes that stuff but you!”

“Lots of people like it! There’s nothing wrong with a little bit of heat,” Sugawara defended sulkily. “And when we were walking to the restaurant, he said I had great taste!”

“That’s because he doesn’t know you at all!”

“Um, ouch?”

Oikawa barreled on, ignoring Sugawara. “He could’ve died! Koushi, I didn’t send you on a date just for you to try to kill someone!”

“How was I supposed to know his allergies? You think _he_ didn’t know _me_? I didn’t know him! I didn’t even know he was in our class until he sat next to me today! And then before I could refuse, you accepted it for me! So, yeah, I’m sorry I was just trying to enjoy myself on a date I didn’t want! The only reason I went was because you insisted, Tooru!”

Oikawa glared at Sugawara. “I just wanted you to be happy! Not kill a man!”

“Argh! Stop bringing it up, he didn’t die! It was just something that _could’ve_ happened.”

“Koushi! That’s still bad!”

“I know that!” Sugawara abruptly stood up, tossing his hands in the air. “I’m sorry, okay? I screwed it up! I don’t know why I went through with this date, it was a stupid idea! I’ve learned my lesson!" 

Oikawa’s arms fell to his sides, his body going numb with shock. Sugawara had never raised his voice at him before, not even when he had really deserved it. “Well, I’m sorry, too,” he managed softly, a tension in his voice. If he spoke any louder his voice would crack. “I’ll stop trying to help you out when I’m obviously not needed.” He turned around and opened the door, slipping into the hallway. “You should go home, Suga-san,” he whispered over his shoulder, “It’s getting late.”

Chased out of his own room and not wanting to watch Sugawara leave, Oikawa tiptoed past Akaashi’s room to hide in the kitchen.

“Oikawa-san, what do you think you’re doing?” Akaashi wasn’t in his room, but drying dishes in the kitchen. _Fuck_.

“I’m hiding, Keiji-chan. Now be quiet.”

“Are you playing hide and seek?” 

“No,” he hissed, flapping his hands. “And please be quiet!” 

“Oikawa-san, if you don’t go back and talk to Sugawara-san, I’m going to call Iwaizumi-san and tell him you were the one who threw away his Star Wars collection.”

Oikawa blinked. “Wait, what? How did you even know about that? That was in middle school!”

Akaashi shrugged and turned around to put away a bowl. “Your friends are very talkative. When you leave them in the living room, they like to tell me little things about you.”

Matsukawa and Hanamaki were officially banned from visiting, Oikawa decided. “Keiji-chan,” he began, “I know that you _think_ you know a lot–“

“Oikawa-san!” Akaashi flashed a glare over his shoulder that froze him in his tracks. He pointed a finger to the hallway. “I’m so tired. So very, very tired of seeing you both act this way. Just go. Now. Thank me later.”

“But I don’t know what to say,” Oikawa said miserably. 

Akaashi picked up a plate and began wiping it dry. “I will bet you a week’s worth of dishes that he doesn’t either. Just tell him how you _really_ feel, before he leaves and it’s too late. It will only get worse if you don’t do something now.”

Meekly, Oikawa trekked back to his room, wondering when Akaashi had become so outspoken. He wasn’t sure if he liked this version yet.

The door wasn’t quite closed so he pushed it open with two fingers quietly, biting his lip and cringing. Sugawara was luckily still sitting on the bed, facing away from the door.  

“Kou-chan,” Oikawa said quietly, scratching the back of his neck and silently thankful he couldn’t see Sugawara’s angry face. “…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, and I didn’t mean to get into a fight. I did mean what I said before, though. I just want you to be happy. You’re my friend. I thought I could do something for you.” Akaashi’s words echoed in his head, but he pushed them away. He didn’t want to ruin this friendship, and was going to salvage what he could.

“Were you even thinking of me?” Sugawara asked. “Of what I wanted?” His voice was closed off, his words biting.

Oikawa winced, but it wasn’t anything less than he was expecting. He had always known he was going to get burned. He was still nothing more than moth to the flame, enamored with the light. “No,” he whispered, “I wasn’t. Not really.” 

He was going to add ‘selfish asshole’ onto the growing list of faults he had, alongside ‘coward’ and ‘prick’. 

Sugawara turned to stare him down, eyes flashing like steel. It was times like these that always startled Oikawa, the strength Sugawara had. He felt weak and small in comparison. “What were you thinking then, Tooru? What made it seem like a great idea?”

Oikawa fought the urge to point out that it _would’ve_ worked out splendidly if not for the super spicy mapo tofu, which he had no control over. But he didn’t want another fight, not with Sugawara. “I don’t know,” he confessed helplessly. “I just thought that maybe if you started dating someone else, I could finally move on.”

“Move on from _what_? Me? Did I _do_ something to you?” He looked hurt.

That was the final straw. “Yes!” Oikawa growled in frustration, flinging his arms into the air and gesturing. “You’ve done _everything_! I can’t think straight, I’m always tired, and even my grades are dropping! I served a volleyball at practice yesterday and it hit the net because you were in the stretching circle and just so happened to lean down!” He stumbled back, his back hitting the door and clicking it shut. 

“And guess what? I screwed up the conclusion paragraph on my last essay because I didn’t write it until seven minutes before it was due. Seven minutes,” he repeated in frustration. “I counted! What if the site had gone down? I would’ve been screwed, and I knew that, but did I care? No. I have spent the entire last three years of my life in fear that we won’t be anything more than friends. 

“And I _know_ I sound like a jackass right now but I don’t care. I’m not blaming you either. It’s my fault, my stupid feelings. But now…now I’m just tired,” he finished lamely, sliding down the door until his butt hit the ground. He wrapped his arms around his knees and hid his face. “I’m tired of loving you and trying to keep it a secret.”

There, he had said it. Akaashi had better be proud.

“You’re such an idiot, Tooru.”

Oikawa raised his head, feeling a bit insulted. He had just exposed the secret locked in the smallest corner of his heart and was met with…what?  

Sugawara choked out a small laugh, biting his lip and waving a hand frantically as he wiped his eyes with the other. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean it like that,” he apologized profusely, cracking a small smile. 

“What could you possibly mean then?” Oikawa asked, feeling dazed.

“Are you really going to make me say it?” Sugawara asked, sliding off the bed until he too was on the floor. “How did you so eloquently put it? I love you, and I’m tired of trying to keep it a secret.” He crawled closer, settling beside Oikawa with his back against the door. He hugged his knees firmly, resting his cheek on his arms as he stared up at his friend.

Oikawa’s mind was still reeling– how was he supposed to respond to that? He couldn’t think straight, not that it mattered. He was too busy gaping like a fish out of water to form coherent words.

“Tooru?” Sugawara’s grin faltered and he looked nervous. “That’s…okay, right? I haven’t ruined what we have? You aren’t going to run away screaming?”

“Well,” he managed, “I guess that depends.”

“What?” Sugawara’s smile wiped away. Now he just looked scared.

“I think we need to discuss the matter of my death–“

“–Tooru!–”

“–What?” Oikawa exclaimed, laughing despite his serious voice. “I’ve known you for three years, Kou-chan, and dating you seems to be a dangerous occupation! We need to discuss proper precautions. For example, if I die, Iwa-chan must get all my Star Trek memorabilia.”

“You’re insufferable,” Sugawara declared in a matter-of-fact tone. “Death is too good for you.”

Oikawa shifted so he faced him, breath hitching slightly as their eyes met. “I guess that means I’ll just have to stay with you.”

“The horror,” Sugawara tossed sympathetically, leaning forward.

“A fate worse than death,” Oikawa agreed, not even fighting to keep a smile from tugging at his lips. 

“Tooru.”

“Koushi.” He leaned closer, their faces only mere inches apart. Oikawa couldn’t take the suspense any longer. Three years of frustration, pining, and guilt surged through his veins at once. It was now or never. 

He closed the distance in a second.

 

 

* * *

 

**[Sugawara POV, bathroom scene]**

 

 

Sugawara stood up and stared at himself in the mirror, tugging at the loose shirt and chewing on his lip. “Don’t you think it’s a bit big?”

Oikawa flapped a hand in the air, waving away any concerns. “It looks amazing. And stop worrying, I’m not done with you yet.” He flicked a strand of wet hair off of Sugawara’s forehead, his touch gentle. “Stay in here,” he ordered abruptly, “I need to grab the rest of the stuff.” He slipped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him and leaving Suga to continue fiddling with his new outfit.

It was a simple style, and Sugawara was surprised that Oikawa even had the outfit. His was a more…flashy style. Daring. Confidant. It reflected his personality, really. Oikawa had a beauty that cut like a knife, sharp and dangerous, the cutting edge of fashion.

If Oikawa was a knife, Sugawara was a spork. 

Although perhaps he had leveled up to butterknife status, he mused as he twitched aside the sleeveless sweater that hung loosely from his shoulders. It was knitted and beautiful, hanging in deep gray folds that he could easily hide his hands in. The shirt underneath was a bit big and his angular collarbones were in plain sight, but the sleeves were his favorite length and it was _soft_. Oikawa had kept Sugawara’s comfort in mind when choosing clothes, not that Suga had really expected anything else. They had known each other for quite a while, starting back from high school, and by now he had a firm handle on the performative character he had befriended. 

Oikawa Tooru was _nice_. Not the kind of nice everybody seemed to associate with Sugawara (for reasons he truthfully couldn’t see), but a hidden nice, the kind he couldn’t quite name with words. Charming came close, but Oikawa was so much more than his fancy words and brilliant smile. He’d tease and mock anybody on a whim, but if you looked past that simpering smirk, his eyes were kind and laughing, drawing you in and overwhelming you. 

And he was always there.

His texts were littered with unbelievable spelling mistakes and such a wide range of emojis that Sugawara actually had to stare at some for a minute just to interpret the expression, but whenever he was in a bad place, it was Oikawa and his texts that lit up his room and chased away the shadows looming in the dark corners. 

It was his unexpected knocking on the door that woke him up the week before finals, coffee in one hand and books in the other, ready to sit down and cram because he knew Sugawara always studied better with other people in the room. 

It was his incredulous, unabashed laughter at one in the morning because he arrived with a shovel in hand ready to bury a dead body, only to find a snoring man sprawled across the steps, head resting in the garden just two inches from a steaming pile of dog poo that had probably come from the tiny monster on the third floor. 

And it was his insistent hands that playfully tugged Sugawara away from the closet to find the perfect outfit they both knew didn’t exist. It was his linked pinky, his sincere promise to do his best for no reason other than it was for his friend.

Oikawa Tooru was more than beautiful, Sugawara thought as he pressed his hands to his warm cheeks, staring into the mirror and watching as the blush slowly crept down his neck. There wasn’t a word to perfectly capture all that he was. He deserved so much more of a friend than Sugawara, he knew, but he also couldn’t stand the thought of letting Oikawa go.

He was selfish and in love. 

The door opened suddenly and Oikawa slipped in before it could swing shut, juggling hair products in his hands and a forced grin painting his face. He dumped everything onto the counter, grabbing for the hair dryer and holding it between them menacingly. “Are you ready for this?” he cackled, turning away to plug it into a socket. 

“Don’t,” Sugawara declared, feeling reckless and wild, a rush of confidence surging through his veins, but his answer was lost behind the sound of the hair dryer turning on. He watched in the mirror as Oikawa’s graceful hands slipped through his tangled wet hair, gaze steady and focused on the task at hand. He couldn’t see the flash of desperation dying on Sugawara’s face. 

Sugawara’s eyes dropped to his hands and he fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeves in silence. The moment of recklessness was suddenly gone, leaving just as fast as it had come, and he felt scared– scared to look up, scared to move. He was frozen beneath the gentle touches on his scalp that tingled pleasantly. His stomach churned uncomfortably and he was sure that he would throw up if his mouth wasn’t closed. 

Why had he ever thought he could do this?

He didn’t want to go on this date. He wanted to jump out of his chair and pin Oikawa to the wall. He wanted to be confident, to demand reenacting the scene that had been playing through his head for the past five months every time he closed his eyes. He wanted to feel Oikawa’s lips on his, feel the hitch in breath that matched his own. But even just the thought of _touching_ him made Sugawara’s face heat up and he knew he couldn’t act on it. It wasn’t anything more than a fantasy, a daydream locked in his mind.  

“Kou-chan,” Oikawa sang lightly, “you’re remarkably quiet for one that was just done a great service from one so amazing as I. And if I may say so, I did an outstanding job. I surprised myself!” He used a finger to gently raise Sugawara’s chin, their eyes meeting in the mirror.

Sugawara’s hair gleamed like silky starlight, even in the bad bathroom lighting. Typically it was parted in the middle so the bangs framed his face and stayed out of his eyes, but Oikawa had teased it up and over so that it fell to the side of his face opposite of his mole and stayed off his forehead. It made him look older, more mature. His baby cheeks now looked slightly less round and his jawline just slightly more angular and sharp. 

“I look like you,” Sugawara stated dryly, turning his head side to side, hiding his amazement. He didn’t look how he felt at all. The man in the mirror had confidence and poise. The real Sugawara felt small and very much like he needed to go hide under his blankets. 

“Shh,” Oikawa ordered sternly as he poked him in the side. “You don’t look like anyone but yourself. To be honest, I didn’t even do much, you know. I can’t help but be jealous. Kou-chan doesn’t have to spend an hour every morning to look decent. The world is cruel.”

Sugawara managed a laugh. “The world is cruel,” he agreed for different reasons, his heart dropping in his chest. He didn’t know what else to say.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: kaneki-coffee  
> twitter: shironekki
> 
> /finger guns/ thanks for reading!


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